


Words Left To Sing

by blunderbuss



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: M/M, Trans Piers!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:41:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21933892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blunderbuss/pseuds/blunderbuss
Summary: Once in a blue moon, Piers wants for something; Mr. Moneybags Raihan is usually all too happy to unconditionally gift it. But the both of them are nothing if not competitive — this time, Raihan has him earn his gift with a game.
Relationships: Kibana | Raihan/Nezu | Piers, Raihan/Piers, piers/raihan
Comments: 7
Kudos: 171





	Words Left To Sing

**Author's Note:**

> birds and steven spielberg exist AND THE ROTOM PHONE IS NOT FUCKING HERE.  
> 🎄

“Probably proper unhealthy, lyin’ down. Sound like complete shite, too.”

“Well, this won’t go on the album, then, will it?” 

Piers closes his eyes with a grumble. He takes a breath. 

“Ah, ah. Spread ‘em."

Piers scowls deeply. After a beat, his knees fall slowly open. He straightens one leg; the other; adjusts his position on the bed; grumbles again. He blushes deeper and turns his head to stare hard at the wall. 

Raihan chuckles.  “Go on…"

Piers’ eyes open. He cranes his head up to give Raihan a look, then lets it flop back against the pillows. “Fuckin’ talkative cameraman.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just excited.” 

Piers laughs through his nose. “God.”

He takes another breath.Raihan’s thumb runs carefully over the buttons of the controller. Piers begins. 

_“You're just too good to be true... Can't take my eyes off you. You'd be like heaven to touch. I wanna hold you so much…"_

Piers’ face scrunches up. He brings his hands to the top of his head and scratches it, subtly pulling a little more of his lengthy bangs in front of his progressively reddening face.

“Can’t see your face, love.”

Raihan’s smile is audible. Piers’s hands slide down, until the heels cover his eyes. “Don’t need to see it.” 

“I do."

After a beat, Piers scrubs at his face. He drops his arms onto the bed fully extended, forming a T, and inhales briskly as he shakes his head. It sends his bangs falling to the side and onto the pillow. His chest rises as he inhales again. 

_“At long last love has arrived, and I thank god I'm alive. You're just too good to be true... Can't take my eyes off you. Pardon the way that I stare. There’s—"_

The word fades halfway into nothing. Piers’ mouth hangs in a quiet gasp. Just barely, his back lifts off the bed. His toes flex and un-flex a few times. 

_“... There’s nothing else to compare. The sight of you leaves me weak. There are no words left to speak. But if you feel like I feel, please let me know that is real. You're just…"_

The word fades again. His head lolls to the side, and he pulls his knees together. His hands turn on the bed so that palms face down, fingers splayed. 

_“... Just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you.”_

His voice has acquired a slight waver, almost unnoticeable. Raihan notices. 

Piers takes a few silent breaths, chest rising; falling. His knees rub together as he shifts his legs. His hands slide down in an arch until they’re on either side of his hips. He moves them up again by a fraction, then back down. 

Raihan takes the opportunity to remind him of the next verse, and softly sings, _“I love you, baby…"_ His heart leaps in his chest when a small, delicate giggle bubbles from Piers. 

_“And if it's quite all right, I need you baby; to warm the lonely nights, I love you baby.”_ His voices falters on the last word; for what reason, specifically, Raihan isn’t sure. _“Trust in me when I say, oh pretty baby, don't bring me down, I pray... Oh pretty ba—"_

The word comes to an abrupt halt, and a low, quiet humming becomes audible. 

Piers lifts his feet off the bed, knees together, ankles crossing. His toes curl and his fingers flex restlessly at his sides. From above his raised knees, Raihan can just barely see how he sucks his lips. 

“Down in front...”

Piers doesn’t move. 

“Oi."

Still no movement. Raihan puts the little remote in his pocket; steps forward. He puts his hand to Piers’ knee and Piers’ eyes shoot open. Raihan smiles at him.

“Down.” 

Piers puts his feet down, sliding them against the blanket until his legs are straight, all while looking down at Raihan; at the camera. His cheeks and forehead are covered with a deep pink blush, and his chest heaves gently. He says breathlessly, "Lost my place.”

Raihan laughs. He retrieves the remote and pushes a button. The humming is no longer audible, and Piers eyes fall closed. 

Raihan helps again: _“Oh, pretty baby…"_

“Ah, yes."

Takes a shaky breath. 

"Spread ‘em." 

Piers deflates with a growl, then parts his legs and lifts his knees, this time with feet on the bed. His head falls to the side again, expression tense with embarrassment. 

_“Oh, pretty baby; now that I've found you, stay; and let me love you, baby, let me love you... You're just—“_

He lurches forward, shoulders rising off the bed, and fists his hands in the blanket sheet. The humming is audible again, and quite so. His upper body makes a few small, sudden jerks forward. His brows are steepled, mouth hanging open. 

Then the humming quiets entirely. Piers tries to catch his breath, head still hanging forward and blanket still clenched in his fists, eyes screwed shut. 

His feet slide farther towards the end of the bed and he carefully lowers himself back down. He bites his lip and shifts against the blanket, looking as though he can't quite get comfortable. He hums frustratedly, his head angled back, breathing deeply. 

“Alright?”

Piers nods his head, brow furrowed. “Grand.” 

Raihan chuckles and lets Piers take a few more breaths, not prodding him to continue. But, though a gesture of patience, his was waning very quickly thin _—_ perhaps not really his own, exactly, but most certainly his body’s. He was faced with his own set of challenges in this game, with one hand occupied with the remote and the other with the camera. So he cheats.

In his peripheral, he sees Piers’ head rise to watch him walk around to the side of the bed. He sets the camera and the controller down on the bedside table, then begins to adjust the zoom and focus. Not quite as ideal as the previous shot, but it would have to do. Piers laughs drunkenly. 

“Whacha plannin’, Spielberg? Lookin' a bit encumbered.” 

“Fucking right, I am.” 

Raihan gives a few last adjustments to the camera’s picture and picks up the controller. He faces Piers, raking his eyes up and down his body. Piers has moved his hands to either side of his head on the pillows, his arms at a ninety-degree angle beside him and a sea of hair fanned out around him, framing him. Raihan could see more clearly the sheen sweat on his skin, everywhere, and the blush that had crept down his neck; his chest; his shoulders. Their eyes meet.

Raihan takes himself through the front of his jeans, moving toward the bed. 

“Just wait ’til you fuckin’ see yourself, Songbird.” 

Piers’ dreamy face tightens again; flustered, as the petname always made him, and he angles his face a little more into the pillow. His legs shift and his back arches. Slightly muffled by the pillow, one eye peaking out, he says: “Think you’ll find you’re blocking your own view, mate.” 

Raihan gives a little start as he realizes he’s standing in front of the camera. He laughs and leans in to give Piers a quick peck on the lips. 

"Shite Spielberg, they call me.”

Piers giggles, too, as Raihan circles the bed. “Can’t stay behind the camera too long, can you?” 

“Nope. S’always better with two!”

Raihan practically jumps onto the bed beside Piers, on the side opposite from the camera, and puts a hand on Piers' stomach as they kiss again. The hand moves to Piers’ waist and curls around it as the kiss deepens, and Piers puts his own hand on the back of Raihan’s head. The other curves against Raihan's cheek — and pushes him back with it. For a moment Raihan looks downhearted, then simply confused. 

"Don’t think we’re quite done here, cheater."

Raihan grins. 

“That actually _wasn’t_ what I was trying to do, but ey, you passed the test! Good on you!”

He leans off Piers, putting one hand behind his head and lounging back onto the bed. The other hand hold the remote, rested on his hip.

“Do go on.”

“Don’t fucking remember where I was." 

Raihan’s face brightens comically. “Winner winner?" 

Piers makes a face at him a moment longer before closing his eyes, concentrating. With one hand on his belly, he rolls his head back fully onto the pillow and clears his throat triumphantly. 

_“You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off you. You'd be like heaven to touch. I wanna hold you so much."_

Raihan watches Piers' face as he presses a button, and Piers’ breath catches. He pauses. 

Raihan closes his eyes and presses a kiss to the palm lying open on the pillow. 

_"At long last, love has arrived, and I thank god I'm alive. You’re…"_

Raihan kisses Piers’ wrist as he presses a button. Then presses it again. Presses it again. 

He opens his eyes to watch Piers' back arch fully off the bed, his heels digging in. The hand he’d kissed meets his face, fingers curling on his skin; he takes the hand in his own. He gives it another, open-mouthed kiss and the fingers flex against his cheek. 

Piers’ hips begin to move in small, rhythmic twitches. The hand Raihan isn’t kissing takes hold of the pillow, and he catches some of his own hair in his grip. His face is tipped too far back for Raihan to get a good look at, so he instead, he stares at the full length of his moon-white neck. At long last, Piers takes a gulp of air. 

Raihan leans a little closer to kiss his throat, and Piers makes a strained groan. 

“Don’t, don’t. I’ll be done.” 

His frenzied fingers curls around Raihan’s ear, thumb pressing into the skin between his nose and cheek. Raihan laughs darkly and watches, entranced; the slight scrape of his nails sends a chill through him. He then clicks the vibrator down by one notch. 

Head still thrown back, Piers labors to catch his breath again, a little moan chasing each exhale. Piers’ hips still gyrate ever so slightly, and Raihan lets loose his own groan.

Raihan promptly switches the hand holding the remote to the other and sloppily undoes the front of his jeans, all the while watching Piers. He could see a bead of sweat on the side of Piers' neck, and the sight of it made his jaw clench tight. 

He thinks he’ll have to click the vibrator down another notch when Piers continues.

_“If s’quite all right, I need you baby, t’ warm the... lonely nights, love you, baby, trust... me when... say…"_

It dips in and out of being sung, alternating between reciting it like a poem, and wavers so much as to make some syllables too quiet to hear. Naturally, his voice had a smokiness to it, but the roughness along the edges of the sound now was entirely new. Raihan can’t help but press his face against his shoulder, devotedly, as he pumped himself. 

Piers’ hand finally drops down and onto himself, too, and Raihan watches as the hand scrambles: first cupping himself briefly before going to his thigh, digging his fingers in. Raihan twitches in his own hand at the sight and he turns to moan into Piers’ shoulder. Piers whines through gritted teeth and he tosses his head to the side, away from Raihan. 

Raihan, relenting, moves his head just barely off Piers’ shoulder, into the hair pooling around the both of them against the bed, and he inhales deeply. Piers still had just a little left to go, and the thought of him still continuing to sing-recite, even now, brought Raihan right to the edge.

Head to the side, Piers works to catch his breath once more, and his moaning exhales are tinged with what sounded like soft sobs. Raihan tilts his head up to see if tears had sprung, and instead notices that the hand that gripped the pillow in a vice-hold had moved up to the solid wood headboard. He had looked just in time to watch Piers’ thin fingers curl against the dark wood, fingernails scrapping against it, and Raihan can hear it. He squeezes the base of his cock to keep from finishing right there. He almost coos at Piers to keep going with his song, but stops himself; he knew that would nearly finish Piers off, too. 

He listens as Piers’ breathing starts to catch, and Raihan realizes he was trying, and failing, to sing again. In lieu of touching Piers, he brings the hand still holding the remote up and tangles as much of his fingers that could spare in his hair, closing his eyes.

_“Pretty... baby, don't... bring me down... pray, pretty... baby, now that I... found you... stay, oh pretty... baby, trust... in me when I say.”_

The last word is choked by another small sob. Raihan turns the vibrator up by two notches and leans forward to bite the crook of Piers’ neck. 

He shuts his eyes as Piers grips the back of his head with both hands, turning to curl around him. For a moment, there’s silence — save for the vibrator's humming — before Piers shatters it with a wavering scream. He convulses around Raihan, hips thrusting and legs sliding directionless along the bed. Raihan lets go of the remote and snakes his hand beneath Piers, pulling him close with a hand between his shoulder-blades. He sucks at Piers’ skin as he comes, too, with a loud, barely muffled groan. Piers' screams continue on each breath from behind closed teeth. His nails dig into the back of Raihan neck and head, making Raihan hiss and throb in his own hand once more. 

As soon as he can spare his hand from around himself, Raihan feels for the remote. He raises his head as much as he can out of Piers’ death-grip to be sure to hit the correct button; once he did, he watches as Piers’ hips still writhe as he lies on his side, knees bent and legs pressed tightly together, visibly trembling. His screams soften into moans behind a tightly closed mouth.

Raihan groans again. He presses his mouth back against the skin around Piers’ clavicle, kissing and licking, and moves his hand down to try and sneak between his legs to soothe him. He can barely get through the pressed-together thighs; Piers lends him access as soon as his addled mind can think to do it. 

Gently, Raihan runs the flat of his hand up and down his front, humming as Piers’ arms continued to tremble against Raihan's head. He listens to Piers’ heavy breathing, and every so often another tremor would run through Piers’ body. 

A minute passes; two. Raihan then slowly feels for the base of the vibrator. Piers loudly sucks in a breath when he finds it, shakily lifting his knee by a fraction. Raihan pulls, and Piers’ grip on his head tightens. Piers groans liltingly when Raihan slips it out completely, and when Raihan, unable to help himself, presses his fingers against him, Piers shifts his legs, toes curling, and grabs at the shoulder of Raihan’s shirt; his knee, intentionally or not, runs up Raihan’s forearm. 

When it runs back down, Raihan slides his fingers lingeringly along the folds before bringing them up to his mouth, between his own lips. He makes sure the sound of his sucking could be heard, and knew Piers did when he pulls at Raihan’s shirt, wraps a leg around Raihan’s waist, and moves his hand from his neck to grab at the ends of his dreadlocks. Raihan hums as he pulls there, too, and Piers makes one last little sob. 

Raihan takes the remote from between them, tossing it on the bed behind Piers before pulling him closer by the small of his back and the hand between his shoulder-blades. He slowly kisses his throat, reverently; little prayers to that voice, and little apologies for the stress their game had put on it. Occasional, tiny tremors still rock through Piers’ bony frame.

Before Raihan becomes too contented with their current arrangement, he unfurls himself from out of his cocoon of Piers and rolls back a ways, craning up to look at him. Piers rolls his head to meet his eyes, and for a moment the words are halted in Raihan’s mouth as he takes in the sight of him — hair wild and haloed in flyaway strands around his face; cheeks breathtakingly blotchy and marked with smudged eyeliner, streaked from a few stray tears. A bit of electricity crackles in Raihan’s belly, but he gathers himself and inhales, mouth open for dramatic effect.

“Well, needless you say, you got your mic.” 

“Yeah, I damn… fucking, damn— shitting have better,” Piers creaks through a shot throat. Raihan had started laughing halfway through his soliloquy. 

Hearing himself, Piers’ eyes briefly widen, and he shifts to take the front of Raihan’s T-shirt in both hands. “And s'gonna be fuckin’ useless after all this, you twat; listen to me.” 

Raihan snakes up the little distance between where he lay and Piers’ mouth. “Ooh, hell, s’even sexier now,” he rumbles before plunging into a wide-open-mouthed kiss. Piers halfheartedly complains into it before lazily, languidly, returning it. Raihan rolls over him, caring not for the inevitable mess he had on himself, and threads his fingers into the hair above Piers' ears. 

“Fuck else you want?” he breathes hotly against Piers’ lips, “Guitar? New drummer? A stadium? A city?” He gives one of his lips a suck between each word, biting down lightly after the last. "You got it."

“Already got all that,” Piers says with some difficulty against Raihan’s mouth as Raihan resumes his kissing. Piers’ arms are folded over his stomach, while Raihan runs his passionately down the sides of Piers’ neck. “Camera’s still runnin’, I'm sure you know.” 

Raihan stills, then smiles. "'Course." When his face brightens like a light, Piers knows what he was about to hear before he’s heard it: “Let’s give it a watch then, shall we?”

**Author's Note:**

> http://i.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/001/293/690/6c7.jpg


End file.
